Blind
by Sagethorn
Summary: "It's not-" Clara gulped, trying hard to hold back tears. "-your fault." Her voice was starting to waver again as the situation began to feel more and more real. The sudden burst of terror was gone, replaced with a numb feeling. "It always is." The Doctor replied darkly, dropping his gaze from her unfocused one. "I thought you would be safe." *Small series with lots of angst! :D*
1. Chapter 1

**[Author's Note: Alright, where are my angst-addicts and my hurt/comfort lovers? Ah, there you are. I think you will enjoy this immensely. This was meant to be a chapter in my one-shot series, Little Moments, but I got _really_ carried away, so it had to become it's own story. Plus, that series is supposed to be light-hearted fluff, which this is most certainty not. I _needed_ to write some angst, because my blood is boiling after hearing 'The News' (I think we should just refer to it as that from now on), and I couldn't stand it. So this one-shot is the result.]**

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**Blind** (_adjective_)- Unable to see; sightless

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The Doctor staggered in through the TARDIS doors, his face stiff with a stoical expression as he struggled to keep his composure. He paused a few feet inside, one arm still reaching out the open door. He turned back with a soft sigh and tugged his arm gently. And, after a long moment of hesitation, Clara stumbled in through the doors after him.

She was clutching his hand like a lifeline, so tight that the skin of his knuckles was turning pale. It was obvious she had failed at remaining as impassive as the Doctor; her face was streaked with fresh tearlines and her breath came in frantic, ragged gulps. She was making an attempt to stay calm, her tears were no longer flowing, but the terror and grief was easy to see on her face. Her eyes were squeezed closed as tight as she could.

The Doctor pulled her gently along through the control room. He walked slow, and she walked slower, moving with small, clumsy, unsure steps. At one point her foot caught on a bit of metal next to the console, and sent her sprawling on the floor, tearing her grip from the Doctor. She lost control again at that point, tears spilling from her closed eyes and racing down her face.

She felt hands gently but firmly wrap around her shoulders and pull her back to her unsteady feet. "Clara," The Doctor murmured as he steadied her gently. Even his voice was unwavering, and suddenly her tears felt once again foolish. She coughed and wiped them away rapidly, struggling to hold back anymore.

"I'm okay." She gasped roughly. "I'm okay." She took the Doctor's hand again and let him lead her silently through the console room, her still taking those small, inching steps, until he stopped moving. Gently, he took her by the shoulders once more and turned her around.

"Sit down." He ordered in a soft voice, and she thought, just maybe, she could hear the cracks in his facade as he spoke. She wasn't sure what to make of that: whether she was comforted by the thought of him being worried for her or terrified that what had, was, happening could break this impassive man.

She sat down carefully, hesitantly, almost not expecting to feel the chair under her. She sunk down into it heavily, her hands moving to grip the sides of the chair tightly, her fingers feeling over it's rough surface.

"Doctor?" She questioned after a few moments of silence. Instantly she felt his hands on her shoulders, slowly moving up to cup her face gently.

"Oh, Clara." He sighed, staring at her red, damp face. Her soft skin was hot, almost burning, from her earlier tears. Her eyes were still squeezed so tightly shut, stubbornly refusing to open. Just a bit of blood was clotted to her eyelashes, dried by now, and his chest tightened sharply at the sight of it. He carefully kneeled down in front of her, to be at her level.

"Clara," He murmured slowly. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

She shook her head, biting her lip. "No." She whispered.

"Please, Clara, I need to-" He paused for a moment. _I need to know._ "-I need to look at them to make sure you're alright." His words bled false hope.

"No, I-" Her voice cracked off with a choking sound. "-I can't." She finished slowly.

"Please." The Doctor repeated, moving his hands across her face so that his fingertips ghosted over her eyelids. "Clara, I need you to."

"No, Doctor." She raised one hand to push his away. "Stop, I can't. They just hurt, I- I can't."

"Clara, you need to open them." The Doctor insisted. "You know you need to. I _have_ to see them. I can't-" He paused. "-I can't fix them if I can't see them."

Clara took a slow breath and started to shake her head again, but stopped after a moment, and finally looked up, her closed eyes level with the Doctor's. "Okay." She murmured, slowly, hesitantly. The Doctor saw her eyelids twitch as she attempted to raise them, the blood momentarily gluing them shut. They finally came apart and she let out a slight whimper of shock as they lifted. The Doctor let out a heavy sigh and reached forward, wrapping his long arms awkwardly around the shaking girl.

How, why, had this even happened?

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_Two hours earlier-_

He hated when that happened: when he brought Clara somewhere promising her fun and entertainment and then they got caught up in some sort of native conflict. Oh, he loved how she played along, how she smiled and tried to be interested no matter what they were pulled into, but he knew she hated it, he could tell by the sour look in her chocolate-brown eyes.

This one especially seemed to be bothering her. They landed right outside an old-looking warehouse type of place, and upon entering found that a large group of people were camped out and, as he learned after asking around a bit, under siege. They refused to let them leave, either to go somewhere else or to go back to the TARDIS, explaining that it would compromise both their safety and the safety of the rest of the people there.

The Doctor, though he promised an irritated-looking Clara that he would leave if he could, found that he actually was rather happy to be there. The people were pleasant, if a bit battle-weary, and the entire situation was tantalizingly intriguing. After getting the exact time and place of where they were, he wracked his memory but could not find anything about this current battle. And there was nothing he loved more than finding out things he didn't already know.

Clara played her part, she followed the Doctor about and smiled and was pleasantly polite to the people, but he could tell she wasn't pleased, the way her thin eyebrows hunched down over her warm brown eyes.

He finally pulled her aside after he had finished chatting with the self-appointed lieutenant of the group, a pleasant young man with sandy red hair, taking her over to an small secluded spot.

"Are you alright, Clara?" He asked.

She sighed heavily, shrugging small shoulders. "Yeah, sure, Doctor. I just-" She paused, biting her lip. "-I hate it when you bring us to wars. I mean, how many people here are going to be dead in a few days?" She gestured to the people milling about idly.

The Doctor frowned. "I don't know. You shouldn't dwell on that though, these people don't. Live life like there's no tomorrow, eh?" He smiled at her, and she gave him a hint of one in return.

It didn't seem right though. Clara was rational, she was calm, she was generally a happy person. She'd been in this situation more than once, and never before had she ever really let it get to her, at least not on the outside.

"Clara?" The Doctor asked, tipping his head back and forth as he examined her closely. "You're sure you're alright?"

"I'm not scared." She snapped quickly, and the Doctor smiled; that was the Clara he knew. "I just... I dunno. It seems weird here. Maybe because of this siege thing. Feels like, you know, anything could happen at any moment." She looked genuinely nervous for a moment, and the Doctor felt a hint of concern.

"Well, of course it could. That's the best way to live, huh? Unexpected looming right around the corner?" He jabbed an elbow playfully at her, grinning widely, and after a moment she smiled back at him.

"Well, you exist off adrenaline, now don't you?" She teased. "You'd die without the unexpected." She trotted away cheerfully, and the Doctor let out his breath in relief. He never liked making his companions feel uncomfortable; who knew if they would even travel with him if he scared them too much?

It happened 20 minutes later. Clara was right, of course. Even the Doctor half saw it coming. A siege was still a battle, and an attack was inevitable at some point.

It started just with some gunfire outside. Heads shot up all around the encampment, but no one seemed terribly concerned; they were used to this. They had guards and weapons of their own. A bit of gunfire was child's play.

Then the bullets actually began to hit the front of the building. Several armed soldiers moved towards the doors and trained their guns on it, but the shooting stopped barely five minutes after it had began. Confused, the men retreated and sat back down.

"They're teasing us." The lieutenant explained calmly to the Doctor. "They've done that a few times before. Just trying to get on our nerves."

The Doctor nodded, accepting a cup of coffee from the man and leaning back calmly on his chair.

And then the roof exploded.

The sound was deafening, like thunder inside your ears, crashing and blasting and shattering. Huge chunks of burning woods rained down on the camp, smoke filled the room at an unbelievable rate, and the walls began to crumble too, rapidly exposing them.

The Doctor scrambled to his feet almost instantly, racing across the floor past people still too shocked to even scream. "Get up, get up! Run!" He shouted at them as he ran, looking this was and that for his companion. "Clara!"

He found her with a small group of soldier women, crouched on the ground with her hands over her head. He grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her to her feet, shoving her violently towards the back on the building. "Go! Go! Get out of here! Run to the TARDIS!" He shouted, and after a few seconds of dazed hesitation she did as she was told, joining a group of other soldiers, mainly the younger ones, that were being ushered out the back doors, away from the enemy out front.

He ran for the front doors along with some of the other men. His lieutenant friend tried to pass him a rifle but he turned it down. "No need." he said quickly. "I'll just help you distract them until the rest of them can get away."

"Where's your girlfriend?" The man asked.

The Doctor didn't feel any pressing need in correcting his term for Clara at the moment. "She got out the back. She's safe." He answered, and believed it.

Until a second explosion came from around back.

The Doctor barely even thought, just turned on his heel and sprinted for the back doors all in half and instant. He vaulted the camp supplies and piles of burning debris, shouting Clara's name over and over, his hearts pounding wildly.

He grabbed the doors and flung them open with a bang, racing outside only to stop suddenly as pain suddenly shot through his face. He reeled back, clamped one hand over his face and swung the other at his assumed enemy, but it connected with nothing. He peered out through his fingers and saw nothing but hazy mist in front of him.

_Gas bomb,_ he thought instantly. Powerful, too. It was already rapidly clearing and the Doctor just getting a few particles in his eyes and nose burned like hell. Whoever had gotten the brunt of it probably would have been-

His hearts sank in his chest like rocks. Shouting Clara's name again, he ran forward, one hand still clamped over his face against the painful haze around him. He looked around through the carpet of crumpled bodies around him, searching in terror for his companion.

He almost tripped over her, curled up in the fetal position on the ground, her hands pressed over her face. He dropped down and curled his arms around her, holding her tight. "Clara, Clara," He murmured frantically. "Are you alright?"

She gasped sharply and stirred in his arms, coughing, shaking hard. She pulled her hands from her face and clutched at the Doctor's shirt instead, gripping it like a lifeline. The Doctor's stomach tightened as he stared at her. Her face was taut with pain, her nose was streaming, but most terrifying was the two thin trails of blood running from the corners of her closed eyes down her cheeks.

"Oh God, Doctor." She gasped, pausing to cough heavily. "My eyes, they're b-burning so b-badly." She broke off with a gasping sob, and tears began to wash the blood from her face. "Oh God, it h-hurts."

"You're okay, you're okay." The Doctor whispered comfortingly, although his hearts were pounding in terror, because she was almost positively _not_ okay. He curled his arms around her tighter, pressing his hands against her back and rubbing them in small circles as she cried in pain against his shoulder.

"C'mon, we need to get out of here." He said after a moment. She didn't respond, too busy taking slow, shaky breaths to try and stop her tears. He gently stood up, pulling her carefully to her feet. She reached blindly out with one hand, catching the Doctor's and holding it like there was no tomorrow.

_I know what happens here now._ He thought bitterly as they marched to the TARDIS. It seemed like painful irony now, he had been so damn _eager_ to find out what was happening when they had gotten here, and now he did. If this was the universe's way of telling him to stop being so enthusiastic over everything, it was the cruelest trick the Doctor had ever seen.

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"I'm sorry." The Doctor whispered brokenly, which was the only thing he could think of as he stared at her tear-blurred, bloodshot eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not-" Clara gulped, trying so hard to hold back tears. "-your fault."

"It always is." The Doctor replied darkly, dropping his gaze from her unfocused one. "I thought you would be safe."

"S'not your fault." She repeated stubbornly, her voice starting to waver again as the situation at hand began to feel more and more real. The sudden burst of terror she had felt when she had first opened her eyes was gone, replaced with a numb, suffocating feeling.

"I-" The Doctor paused, surprised at the sudden prickle of tears in the corners of his eyes. He leaned forward again, wrapping his lanky arms around her. "This never should have happened to you." He murmured into her hair as he hugged her to him.

"Well, I guess it did." There was no lightness in her voice, which broke near the end. The Doctor could feel her hands gently moving over his body, subconsciously feeling over the details of him to compensate for her eyes.

The Doctor slowly released the hug, settling back to stare at her quietly. "Oh, Clara." He murmured, watching as her eyes followed the sound of his voice, locking on a spot somewhere near his neck. His chest tightened, and what he wouldn't give to see her look him in the eyes one more time. "Oh my wonderful, perfect Clara Oswald."

Clara gave a short, humorless laugh. "I'm n-not perfect." She choked out, tears threatening to spill over her eyelids again. "Especially n-not now."

"Clara," The Doctor's voice was serious, as she felt him gently reach up to cup her face in his hands. "You are _always_ perfect and _always _beautiful, especially now." He leaned forward, and she felt his lips lightly touch over her forehead, her ears, her cheeks. "Don't you ever forget that."

She wanted more than anything to see him right now, to see his wonky hair scattered in front of his face, to see his twinkling green eyes, to see his inevitable blush at his affectionate contact. Almost without realizing it and with barely any attempt to stop it, the tears had resumed trickling down her face.

"Don't cry, Clara." The Doctor whispered, wrapping his arms around her again, more gently this time. "I'm right here."

"Not like I can see you." She replied snappishly, breaking off with a cough. "S-sorry, I just-" She took in a shaky breath. "I w-want to see your stupid chin one last time." She laughed, brokenly, tears cutting into the corners of her mouth.

One small tear that he gave up holding back ran down the Doctor's face because _dammit_, this wasn't fair. He tried to picture, just for a second, the darkness she was feeling right now, all the things she wanted to see 'one last time' flickering through her mind.

The tear dripped off the end of his cheek, landing on the back of Clara's hand. He didn't make any acknowledgement of it, just continued to embrace her gently, but he saw her fingers curl slightly and knew she had felt it.

"Doctor, are you crying?" She asked.

"No," He tried to respond, but it wasn't the truth, and right now, she didn't deserve anything except that. "No, I mean, I mean, yes." He coughed slightly, rubbing any tears that might attempt to join the first one from his eyes.

"You sh-shouldn't be." She declared, hiccuping from crying too long. "M-My problem, not yours."

"I'm sorry," He said for the umpteenth time, though he knew she was tired of hearing it. (It was almost for his own sake at this point.) "I never should have taken you there. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

Clara shook her head. "St-stop it." She ordered. "I k-knew what could happen when I c-came here. And I still l-love it here." She tried to picture the Doctor's expression now: Rapt, listening with his soft eyes to every word. "I love everywhere we go, and I even love the TARDIS," She reached out sideways with one hand until she could brush her fingers across the metal railing. "And y-you."

It didn't even feel so much like a declaration of love as more of a plea of desperation, because she knew. She had known from the moment she opened her eyes for the Doctor that her TARDIS career was over. She could never live in this endless maze of corridors and rooms, she got lost enough when she was... normal. And the Doctor wouldn't, couldn't take her on adventures like this. He would be more terrified for her safety than she was. They would never be able to do anything exciting, and she knew that would kill him.

He would never ask her to leave, she realized, he would never bring himself to be as cruel. But she couldn't stay here and force this man, who truly did exist off adrenaline, to tone everything he did down to compensate for her. So she would have to leave on her own, and the sooner the better, no matter how much the selfish half of her was pleading her to stay.

"Clara, I know what you're thinking." He murmured into her hair.

"No you don't." She replied, more focused on trying to scrub the annoying tears from her eyes than anything. She was sick of them, and she figured the Doctor was, too.

"Yes I do." He insisted, breaking their hug and leaning back on his knees in front of her. He reached out, taking both her hands in his own. "Clara, listen to me. I will never make you leave."

"I know you won't." She said, trying to slide her hands away, but he held them fast.

"No, look at-" He stopped himself before the slip-up was out of his mouth. "-listen to me." He covered up hastily. "I don't _want_ you to leave. I would never have you leave for something like this. This is not your fault and you do not deserve it." He lifted her hands, turning them palm up and kissing the tips of her fingers lightly. "You're still Clara, my Clara, my friend. And I will never abandon you."

Clara continued to stare silently at a spot somewhere near his collar. Her fingers curled around his own delicately, hesitantly holding his hand. She said nothing, her mouth pressed shut tightly in an impassive expression.

"Whatever happens I'll always be here." He continued in a soft voice. "We'll do this together, yeah? You and me."

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly, not quite ready for a true smile but given enough encouragement to try. "Okay." She agreed finally, clutching his hands tighter as she tried to picture the wonderful man in front of her. "You and me." She whispered.

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**[Author's Note: Well. Um. That was quite alot of angst, even by my standards. Did the fluff at the end even it out? I lost my zeal for writing anguish right about then, so a little fluff squeezed in. ...Oh, damn. Did I just write Whouffle angst-y hurt/comfort fluff? Ah, I don't know if you guys will even believe me but: _I don't ship them!_ Oh well. Hmmm, you know what? This was meant to be a stand-alone one-shot, but I'm actually giving some consideration to continuing it. Maybe make a (very small) series of how their life goes after this. What do you guys think? Please review if you liked this, and, hell, even if you didn't. I just like getting feedback. :3]**


	2. Chapter 2

**[Author's Note: Yep, this is me giving in. Even though I wasn't planning on writing a second chapter and I was really leaning towards leaving it as a one-shot, your peer pressure caved me in. Seriously, the response to this was unbelievable. 19 reviews, 23 favorites, and 14 follows. Holy cow! I love you all, and if we weren't on the internet I'd hug you so hard you'd die. So here's the second chapter, still full of plenty of angst and, as one of my lovely reviews put it, "FEEELSSSSSS". Enjoy! :3]**

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She knew he was still there.

He probably thought she was already asleep, or at least unaware of his presence, but that wasn't the case. She knew that when he had opened and shut the door that he hadn't left, that he was still standing there, watching her quietly and sadly from across the room.

He wasn't even making any noise, barely even breathing, but just the knowledge of his existence in the room bothered her. If anything, she figured, he could at least give her this night to herself, to think, to cry, maybe, without his observation. She at least deserved that. Apparently not by his standards, though.

"I know you're still there," She mumbled finally against her pillow, just barely loud enough to hear.

At first there was no reply, him childishly still trying to hide his presence, but after a moment or two she heard the floor creak as he took a few hesitant steps forward. "Yes." He replied quietly, watching with glimmering cat-like green eyes for her to make any move in acknowledgement. But she remained stony still.

"Why?" She asked simply, after another long pause. There was no real reason for him to still be there. He had taken her to bed, said his goodnights, kissed her forehead. Right now she wanted nothing more than to just sleep and forget everything, like the pain that was still burning hotly through her face, clawing at the undersides of her closed eyelids.

"I told you, I'm won't leave you." The Doctor replied softly. His slow steps had led him right to the edge of her bed, so he could just make out her still, blanket-shrouded form in the darkness. He swallowed a few times, trying to fight the urge to reach out and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I don't need you to stay with me while I'm sleeping." Clara mumbled, although she remembered in the back of her mind that this was certainly not the first time he had done exactly that (Back when things were normal).

"But you want me to." He posed it as a statement but it came out too much like a question, rising a bit at the end with a kind of hopeful pleading. _Let me stay, Clara. Let me help. That's what I do; I help._

She just wanted this night to be over with forever. "Then stay." She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut tightly, despite the flare of pain it caused. Trying to hold back a whimper, she tugged her blankets up to her ears and slumped her head deeply into her pillow.

The Doctor being there, and she knew from the gentle pulse of his breathing that he didn't leave, did nothing to stop the thoughts from coming to her. In the total silence of the bedroom, save for the gentle hum of the TARDIS that had become almost imperceptible background noise by then, all the day's distractions were gone, leaving nothing to stop the full weight of her situation from crushing her again.

Everything suddenly felt so sickeningly real now. She was blind. _Blind_. For real and forever. She would never see anything ever again. Not the flashing lights and sleek metal of the TARDIS, not the multi-colored skies of the planets the Doctor took her to, not the bright, ecstatic smile of the madman himself.

Maybe he had said he wouldn't abandon her, and maybe he had even meant it, but there was hardly any life left for her here, and he must know it as well as she did. Maybe she could somehow learn her way around the TARDIS, something that would take her months to begin with, what would she do then? The Doctor didn't stay in one place. He traveled around and around, staying just long enough to do something stupidly exciting, and then ran off again.

How could she possibly keep up with that? Being the Doctor's companion was not a hobby, she knew. It was practically a career, with a job description of being saved by the Doctor after wandering off and, more often, saving the insane man himself after he'd done something incredibly stupid. How in God's name could she manage that when she would have to practically cling to the Doctor's arm all day long to avoid getting herself lost or killed?

She couldn't. That was the answer, however blunt and painful it was. She couldn't put up with it, and his knew even his endless kindness wouldn't put up with it, either. He'd either end up hating her, or continue to be so patient with her it would make her hate herself. She curled her hands into fists around her blankets and gritted her teeth tightly together.

"Tomorrow," She began in a taut voice, and she pictured the Doctor's head snapping up to look at her, his unmanageable hair flicking into his eyes, which he would ignore as he listened. "You're taking me home." She gnashed her teeth together and ground out the last bit, "For good."

The Doctor watched her quietly, saying nothing for a few long moments. His words, hell, his _whole throat_ was stuck, unable to force a single sound from his lips. He swallowed roughly once, twice, three times, and it was like gulping down broken glass.

"Okay." He managed to get out. He ran a hand over his mouth and swallowed again. "Why?" The last word came out choppy, and dropped at the end, like he thought maybe he should take it back.

A feeling of hot anger burst somewhere in Clara's head, like it had been an animal waiting to pounce, startled suddenly into attacking by his words. "Why?" She shouted, her voice bitter. "Because I've got to tell my family I'm goddamn _blind_, did you ever think of that?"

There was silence for a moment following her outburst, leaving nothing but the soft hum of the TARDIS and Clara's harsh breathing to fill the void of noiselessness in the bedroom. After several long seconds passed and the Doctor still made no response, either too shocked or unable to find the right words, Clara found herself forced into nervous explanation.

"It's just easier." She stuttered haltingly, waiting for a moment for a reply. When she got none, she continued slowly. "I just- don't want to make this... harder than it should be." She swallowed, digging her fingers into the softness of her pillow and letting the sounds of her breath fill the silence that followed.

"Okay." The response that came finally was almost too soft to catch, the word barely more than a faint whisper. She heard a soft cough, and then it was repeated a little more forcefully. "Okay. Right. Whatever you want. I'll take you home first thing in the morning, so try and get some sleep."

The last comment sounded like a dismissal, or a goodbye, and she waited to hear the soft sounds of his footsteps retreating across the floor. But he seemed to simply stay where he was, poised like a guard next to her bed, breathing softly but otherwise not making a sound.

_Thank you_, was what she tried to say, but her lips stuck together and she choked on the words. Instead, suddenly, there was a feeling of hot wetness behind her closed eyelids, and she found her words spelling out something completely different,

"Doctor," She murmured, pausing for a moment like she normally would if she were waiting to see him turn to face her. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." The answer was automatic and effortless, said so quickly it almost came off as snappish. She could hear him take in a nervous breath after, as if maybe thinking he _had_ come off as rude.

But instead of being responded to with a softly growled comment or bitter silence, the next thing the Time Lord heard from the girl in the bed was a small, awkward chuckle, a splintered attempt at a laugh.

"I don't want to go either." Clara whispered, laughing brokenly again and tucking her face into her pillow, ignoring the bright sting of pain in her face and the tears she could feel forming in the corners of her eyes.

She felt the pressure on the edge of her mattress as the Doctor sat down just before his arms were wrapped around her, pulling her gently into a sitting position and holding her delicately by the shoulders, like she might break.

"Then don't." The Doctor murmured, encouragement and a kind of hesitant pleading lacing his words. "Stay here. I still need somebody with me on the TARDIS Team, eh?" He shook her gently, playfully.

Clara laughed again at his words, which turned instantly into a harsh, raw-throated cough. The Doctor's grip around her tightened as she wore through it, and she could picture his expression, concern mixed with a kind of naturally-gentle care, as clearly as if it were actually right in her line of sight.

She took in a shaky breath as the fit ended and straightened up, running a hand across her mouth and sighing. The Doctor's embrace eased a little, and she heard him ask softly, "Alright?"

"Yeah." She whispered roughly, shaking her head and letting out a small laugh. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"You don't have to decide now." The Doctor reassured instantly, his hand beginning to rub small circles against her shoulder absentmindedly as he spoke.

"Think about it for a little while?" Clara suggested faintly, numbed at this point into flat-out exhaustion, leaning slightly into the Doctor's gentle massaging of her shoulder.

He nodded in affirmation, then backtracked instantly and went for a non-visual cue. "Exactly. And whatever you decide... I promise I'll help you with it. No matter what."

"Alright." She said softly, her consciousness beginning to grow fuzzy with sleep. Her head dropped lightly against his shoulder, one hand resting on his lap, and sank into the slow, syrupy breathing of slumber. The Doctor smiled slightly, kissed the top of her head, and was content to stay sitting like that for quite a long time.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

**[Author's Note: Ta-Da! How was that? Still a good enough mixture of angst and fluff? I hope you liked it, anyway. So, in other news, the next chapter is already mostly done, so you can expect in up in a week or less. (In total, I'd say you should expect about 4 chapters in this series.) Please review; I love feedback from you guys! :3]**


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